


Between Friends

by eggsbenni221



Category: Bridget Jones's Diary - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, M/M, Prequel, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15847317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggsbenni221/pseuds/eggsbenni221
Summary: “Come on, Darce. It’s not a crime to go out and have fun on a Friday night. In fact, I think studying at the weekend is actually illegal. You can do more with girls than study them, you know.”“I don’t study them; I study with them. You, on the other hand—you can do more with girls than sleep with them, you know.”"How would you know, Darce? Have you ever tried?” With tremendous effort, Mark suppressed a wince, wondering whether Daniel would still make those jabs if he knew how much they hurt his friend. He would never know, of course, because Mark would never admit what he felt.





	Between Friends

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I love Mark and Bridget, I've always wanted to do this. This is entirely separate from my songfic series, The Song in my heart. Please go check that out if you're interested!

Mark Darcy yawned and brushed a hand across his eyes before bending to retrieve the textbook that had slipped from his grasp when he’d fallen asleep. He’d spent most of the evening sprawled on his bed, books and notes scattered around him. Rubbing his eyes again, he tried to discern what had caused his abrupt return to consciousness and, glancing around, found his answer in the form of Daniel Cleaver standing in the doorway, arms folded, a few waves of hair falling into his laughing eyes with casual elegance. he smelled faintly of aftershave, and his open-collared shirt displayed a tantalizing wisp of chest hair. The ladies loved it, Daniel had once observed. So did Mark, not that he ever admitted this to Daniel; Hell, he had a hard enough time admitting it to himself. Mercifully, Daniel’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Darce, what the bloody Hell are you doing?” 

“Studying. I urge you to try it sometime.” 

“Not tonight you’re not, golden boy. You’re coming out with me.” 

Mark sighed. “I can’t. I’ve already told you.” Daniel grinned, and Mark reluctantly shifted aside to make room as his best friend flopped down on the edge of the bed. 

“Come on, Darce. It’s not a crime to go out and have fun on a Friday night. In fact, I think studying at the weekend is actually illegal.” 

“I think you’ll find you’re wrong,” Mark replied. 

Daniel shrugged. “Well, I think you’re long overdue for a break. The last time I saw you with a girl, I think you were in the library. You can do more with girls than study them, you know.” 

“I don’t study them; I study with them. You, on the other hand—you can do more with girls than sleep with them, you know.” 

“How would you know, Darce? Have you ever tried?” With tremendous effort, Mark suppressed a wince, wondering whether Daniel would still make those jabs if he knew how much they hurt his friend. He would never know, of course, because Mark would never admit what he felt. A boarding-school upbringing combined with a steady diet of Admiral Darcy’s strict, military-style discipline had taught Mark to swallow and metabolize his emotions into hard-shelled, stiff upper-lip reserve. That reserve had, over time, thickened into a layer of armor that he would never—could never allow Daniel to penetrate. 

“Darce?” Daniel’s punch to his shoulder brought Mark back to himself. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“come on. Come out with me. You need a change of scene. I don’t think you’ve had a proper date since you cut Cordelia loose a few months ago,” said Daniel, referring to a girl from one of Mark’s tutorials with whom he’d briefly become involved. 

He sighed. “I didn’t ‘cut her loose’. Things just. . . didn’t work out.” 

“Well, if I can’t convince you, then that’s that.” Daniel shrugged and got to his feet. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got things to see and people to do. Expect me when you see me.” 

Alone again, Mark slumped back on his bed, contemplating his friend’s words. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been on dates; he just wasn’t particularly skilled in that area, while Daniel’s dates—or conquests, to term them more accurately—flocked to him like moths to a flame. It was the principal reason why mark generally avoided accompanying Daniel to the various parties to which he tried to drag his friend. With his understated manners and geeky sweaters, Mark tended to fade into the background wherever he went. 

“It’s just a matter of confidence, Darce,” Daniel had told him exhaustively since their days at Eton. Their friendship seemed an unlikely one, and yet the two boys had filled a necessary niche in each other’s lives. Mark, who seemed to have been hard-wired with an unwavering moral compass and solid dependability, gave Daniel structure; Daniel, with his penchant for mischief, taught Mark how to bend—or tried to, at least. They fit, the pair of them, like two halves of the same coin. 

“Stop this,” Mark scolded himself. With a sigh, he endeavored to turn his attention back to his studies, but not surprisingly, he found it impossible to concentrate with the image of Daniel’s lazy smile and laughing eyes in the forefront of his mind. Heaving another sigh, he shoved his books aside, left his room and, taking down a bottle of whiskey, endeavored to wash away the leaden taste of too-long unspoken desires on his tongue. He welcomed the burn of the alcohol, which left in its wake an anesthetic numbness that would only intensify the feelings it dulled once sensation returned. He’d just knocked back a second shot and was pouring a third when the door opened, and Daniel slouched in. 

“You’re back early,” Mark observed as Daniel dropped onto the sofa beside him. 

Daniel shrugged. “Thought I’d call it a night.” 

Mark lifted a brow. “Struck out, did you?” 

“Hark who’s talking,” Daniel shot back. “Do you even try?” 

“Easy for you to say. You’ve been known to get a girl pregnant just by smiling at her.” 

“It pains me to admit this,” said Daniel, “but I fear you might be overestimating my sexual prowess.” 

“Not by much.” 

Daniel rested his chin in his hands and regarded his best friend. “Look, Darce, I know I like to give you a hard time about being rubbish with women.” 

“Relentlessly.” 

“Right, well, the thing is, sometimes I think you’re too hard on yourself.” 

Mark sighed. “perhaps. Perhaps I try too hard. I suppose that’s my problem.” 

Daniel grinned. “Come on, Darce. I think we both know that’s not your problem.” Mark tensed as his friend shifted on the sofa so that their legs brushed; he tried to speak, but the heat of Daniel’s hand on his knee drove all coherent thought from his brain. 

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, you know, Mark.” 

“Daniel, I--” Daniel placed a finger over Mark’s lips to silence him, and reflexively, Mark touched his tongue to the tip of Daniel’s finger. 

“This is what you want, Darce, isn’t it?” Instead of answering, Mark raised a hand and traced his thumb along the curve of Daniel’s smirk. 

“That’s what I thought.” Their mouths were inches apart now; Mark could feel Daniel’s breath on his cheek. Daniel hesitated for a moment, considering—or allowing Mark Time to consider—but when Mark didn’t pull away, Daniel leaned in and closed the distance between them. 

“Well,” Daniel said when they finally drew apart, “it’s about fucking time.” Mark released the bubble of nervous laughter that had been building inside him and punched Daniel on the arm. Daniel punched back, and suddenly the pair of them were tumbling onto the carpet in a tangle of limns. Rolling on top of Mark, Daniel took his mouth in another kiss, longer and deeper than the first. 

“I. . . quite enjoyed that,” said Mark as soon as he felt able to breathe. 

Daniel grinned down at him. “So did I, but there’s just one thing, Darce.” He leaned in and grazed the skin of Mark’s neck with his teeth. “I haven’t finished with you yet.” 

“Oh.” Mark shivered as Daniel’s hands slid down his torso; when Daniel tugged on his trousers and traced his tongue in a slow, wet line along his inner thigh, Mark felt as if he were slipping off the edge of the world. He didn’t precisely lack experience in the realm of sexual knowledge, but never before had he ridden this dizzying wave of sensation. Once his world had righted itself, he realized that never before had he felt comfortable enough, secure enough with anyone to take that plunge. Now, somehow, with Daniel, the jump seemed far less intimidating—Daniel, who pushed Mark to his limits and then jumped with him so he wouldn’t have to go it alone. Hours later, they lay together in a warm, heavy tangle of limns. Mark could feel the faint, lingering thrum of his body from the rhythm of Daniel’s touch, as if a spring deep inside him that had lain tightly coiled for too long had finally released and unwound itself. He glanced down at Daniel now, resting his head in the crook of Mark’s arm. “Not quite how you expected to spend the evening, was it,” Daniel murmured drowsily. “Definitely not. It was. . . far more enjoyable.” Daniel lifted a brow. “You sound surprised.” Mark smiled. “No, it’s just. . .” “You didn’t expect sex could be that fun?” suggested Daniel. “Well, that’s because you’ve been doing it wrong.” He lifted his head and gently laid his lips on Mark’s. “You’re welcome, by the way.” “Bastard,” Mark grumbled. “Love you too, Darce,” Daniel whispered as he drifted into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is different from my usual style, but I hope you enjoyed it. Comments and kudos are welcome. Please follow me on Twitter @Eggsbenni221.


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